


Blood Sacrifice

by princehadri, whytekatt



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Biting, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Bulges and Nooks, Cannibalism, Cunnilingus, Drugged Sex, Drugging, Dubious Consent, First Time, Gore, Implied Cannibalism, Incest, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Nooks, Oral Sex, Sensitive horns, Shota, Size Kink, Stomach Bulge, Tentabulges, Underage Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Virgin Sacrifice, Virginity, Wound Fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-09-06
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:35:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princehadri/pseuds/princehadri, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whytekatt/pseuds/whytekatt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the same thing every year: an (un)lucky wriggler is chosen to be given to the Grand Highblood to keep his favor. You never thought you'd be the poor bastard chosen. The rumors you've heard about him would fill a book...but what you've heard and what's true are two completely different things. Not that you care. You just don't want to be eaten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Every year it’s the same thing. Someone around your age is sent to the Grand Highblood as tribute. The adult trolls claim it’s to keep him calm and thank him for his protection, but everyone - even you - knows that isn’t the truth.

It’s just plain old sacrifice.

The unlucky winner is always picked randomly out of your hemospectrum (they dare not to send him a lower blood, nor risk the wrath of the higher bloods by trying to take one of  _their_  wrigglers), but with how many of you there are within the age range, it’s never been an issue.

Until you find yourself being dragged out of your hive. The same trolls who you had always sort of looked up to have you by the arms so hard that your grey flesh is purpling with impending bruises.

"Lemme the motherfuck go!" You dig your heels into the sand to try and slow them down but all that manages to do is strip your bare feet raw. "I wanna go back home!"

None of them bother talking to you as you struggle every step of the way towards the caves. The cool stone is sweet mercy on your bleeding feet, but you don’t notice it. You’ve spent every day of your short life avoiding this place, like all the other trolls do. 

It strikes dread into your heart.

"In." 

The other trolls let you go and push you forwards into the mouth of the cave. You’ve seen the tributes before. You know that there’s no point in trying to run. There’s guards stationed in case you try to make a break for it and you know that they aren’t going to leave just because you step inside.

“ _Go_!”

There’s a sharp prod to your back and you reluctantly move towards certain doom. You don’t know what the Highblood  _does_ with his sacrifices, but you’ve heard the stories. Clothing made from skin, decorations of bone, meals of flesh and muscle.

With every step you take into the twisting labyrinth, the light of outside grows dimmer and your eyes shift to adjust to the flickering torchlight. All you can hear is the echo of your own footsteps sounding off the walls. 

"What have they sent me now…?"

The unfamiliar voice sends chills of terror down your spine. You can  _hear_  him but you can’t  _see_  him and it makes your senses strain all the more.

"Keep on walking, little mother fucker."

You do as you’re told - not out of desire to obey, but because there’s nothing else  _for_ you to do.

A few dozen more steps down the narrow tunnel and it opens up into a small chamber. There’s food -  _normal_ food - set out on a table in front of you, but beyond that the room is completely empty. The sight of it makes your stomach twist painfully with hunger. You had been dragged out of your cocoon before you had been able to eat anything and your body has finally realized that.

"Go ahead." The voice addresses you like it can see you. A hoarse whisper pressed against your ear. "You’re no mother fucking good to me if you’re half starved. I’m not  _heartless_ ~”

You aren’t about to argue with the Highblood  _and_ your stomach.

You throw yourself into eating with all the energy and enthusiasm that only a wriggler of your age can possess.

"Don’t choke," He laughs, oily slick and darker than the deep nighttime waters of the sea, "You’re not  _any_ use to me if you’re  _dead_.” 

Wiping your mouth on the bare skin of your arm, you finish eating and glance about the cave again.

"Onwards, little mother fucking wriggler."

This time, you  _are_ obeying. Your limbs feel pleasantly light as you walk. Your feet don’t hurt anymore and there’s a vague fogginess in the back of your mind.

You head towards the source of the voice and down the winding tunnels until you step into what is unmistakably a throne room. There’s a low stone table taking up the center of the large cavern and torches on either side of the throne itself. But you don’t even notice. All you can see is the hulking behemoth upon the throne. His hair is wild and tangled and down to his waist from what you can see. His horns are like your own, should yours be nearly twice their current length. 

You can feel yourself rubbing your fingers against the edge of your own horn, imagining how much the other’s must weigh.

What really catches your eye is two things - the size of his hands (triple those of any adult troll you’ve ever seen) and his face itself. Dark purple eyes are set deep in his skull, smeared makeup covering his grey skin - much like your own does. Elongated canines rest over his lower lips and twist his smile into something you’ve never seen before.

When he stands, it feels like the very floor shakes and you shrink down against yourself with growing fear.

"What’re you…what’re you gonna motherfucking do?" You manage to ask, voice far squeakier than you want. "I a-ain’t gonna be no good as a meal."

He grins widely and claps a massive hand against your small shoulder, nearly bowling you over.

"Do I look mother fucking hungry?" 

"I…shit, I dunno. Are…you?" You have to look straight up towards the ceiling just to see his face. "You don’t  _look_ hungry, but…”

One of the Highblood’s hands is stroking the inner side of one of your horns and it’s making it hard to think. Claws run along the base teasingly, forming nonsensical patterns against the deep orange.

"Not really hungry at all. Got somethin’ a little better on my think pan right now."

You’re trying to think so that you can answer, but with the way he’s fondling your horn it’s difficult to even remember your own name. He’s sending warm chills down into the pit of your stomach, a deep purple flush working its way onto your cheeks.

The Highblood’s grin is more of a leer as he ushers you back towards the throne he only just got off of.

Your limbs are starting to feel numb and you can’t even fight as he grabs the back of your shirt and pulls you into his lap. You can feel the lump in your throat grow, becoming hard to swallow down. You’re shaking and you can feel him laugh at your nervousness. It’s like an earthquake and all you can do is hold on.

"Why are you so mother fuckin’ nervous, grub?"

There’s a million reasons you’re nervous. Or are there? Really, you can’t remember.

"Why don’t you lay down and get comfortable."

You stare up at him for a second but his eyes are completely unreadable. Or maybe you just aren’t so good at reading that sort of thing. He’s just watching you without any further command so you do what he said. You’re slumped back against the arm of the throne, head resting against the rock as you blearily look back up at him. 

"That’s good…real good." One of his long fingered hands is crawling up your leg and over the waistband of your pajama pants and before you know it, he’s got your pants tugged down around your knees. "Now just keep on layin’ there like you are like a good mirthful little fucker." 

You want to argue with him about it and you’re about to…only, the second his clawed fingers brush against the folds of your nook, every thought in your mind dissipates. You’d be lying if you said you’d never put your hand down your pants before but this is different. You’ve never done  _quite_ what he’s doing. One of the tips of his fingers push into you and you can’t help the cry of objection that springs to your lips.

"That won’t do you no mother fucking good." He grins against your neck and you can feel pointed fangs brushing over your exposed throat. You’re reminded of your impending fate, but his fingers rubbing against your crotch are distracting you.

"D-Don’t eat me," You whine as he practically flips you around with one hand so that you’re sitting in his lap and facing him. You’re forced to stare up into his gleaming eyes for that second and you can feel the growing terror coursing through you.

"Why not?" The Highblood’s grin widens and he pushes you down so that your head is against his knees, shoulders supporting your weight as he lifts you up by your hips. Your shirt has fallen over your face and you can’t see what’s going on.

"Hold still."

Your legs are moved by a single large hand, pulling them around either side of his neck. You’re utterly exposed to him and you’re glad you can’t see him - and that he can’t see your darkly blushing face. His breath is warm against your sensitive flesh, teasing kisses trailing down your inner thighs and making you quiver. You’re hot with arousal and you can feel your bulge squirming, desperate, in the cold air.

"You like that?" He chuckles. A low rumble against your leg, tongue sliding upwards with devastating slowness. Your hips twitch just once and that’s invitation enough for him.

His too long tongue pushes inside of your nook and you gasp harshly for air. You’ve never gone beyond simple teasing with your own fingers, always too nervous to push them inside yourself. Your attention has always focused more on your bulge, slick and sensitive enough to bring you to a climax in no time. The tongue within you is like nothing else you’ve ever felt. He can tell, by the smirk that you can see when you peek up from around the edge of your shirt.

"What a  _cooperative_ little mother fucker they sent me this time…” The Highblood’s tongue licks over your bulge and he pulls back with a wild grin. “So how ‘bout I see just how good you are.”

He gets up too quickly and you fall onto the unforgiving stone of the chair in a heap, your hips still rocking needily.

"Bend over. Knees on the ground."

It’s all you can do to obey, chest and cheek alike pressed against the throne. 

Something like a coo rumbles forth from his broad chest while he looks you over. His impossibly large hand rubs over your ass leisurely, spreading you and grazing his thumb over your entrance. You tense up and he laughs, hands dropping lower to tug at the lips of your nook.

"Don’t worry…I ain’t interested in that right this second." You can hear the soft shuffle of fabric and then the sound of his pants hitting the ground. “You fuckin’ move and I’ll rip your throat out.”

Immediately, you freeze and he laughs at you while something prods at your nook. Both his hands are on your ass so it has to be…

"Motherfuck!" You yelp in surprise and anger as the tip of his bulge presses into you, twisting within your very insides. It coils and pushes and withdraws slowly and you can feel it trying to spread you open.

"How ‘bout some miracles, boy?" He’s leaning over you, broad chest pressed against your back and he slowly moves his hips to work his bulge further into you. "You’re mirthful tight…you done this before, or did they sent me a little mother fucker who’s  _new_ to this?”

You don’t answer. You’re too distracted by the way that his bulge is pushing you open and pressing against your inner walls.

"Think you can take the rest of it?"

The  _rest_?

You lift your head and twist sharply to look back at him - or more specifically, his hips.

His bulge is bigger than you had imagined. It’s long and thick; about as big around as your forearm at its average width. But that isn’t what you’re stricken speechless by.

At the base of the coiling appendage is a knot that rivals your clenched fist.

The Highblood’s gaze follows yours and when he sees what you’re staring at, he barks out a laugh. “You gonna be a good little bulge licker and take that for me?” Thumbs press against your nook, pulling your wet folds further apart so that he can wiggle another inch into you. 

“ _You_ ain’t gonna fit, forget about  _that_ motherfucker!”

"Not yet, sure…" You can hear him grinning as he grinds slowly against you. The length of his bulge that isn’t pushing inside your nook is rubbing against the cleft of your ass, seeking out any friction that it can get. "You just need a little practice."

The ache of your nook isn’t enough to distract you from the sudden pain in the back of your neck and when you feel warmth trickling down over your throat and his tongue over your skin, you tense. He really  _is_ going to fucking eat you. The thought of your blood over his lips is enough to make you lightheaded. You’ve only ever heard of cannibals. You’ve never met one.

His bulge twists within you, the tip of it flicking against your insides and pushing insistently against you. You’re confused by the change in pace until a moan warbles forth from your lips, high pitched and sharp. You’re (nearly) seeing stars between the pain and the bizarre pleasure that you’re getting from the pressure inside you. 

One of his hands strokes over your bulge, squeezing it and rubbing his thumb over the length of it while it eagerly curls between his fingers with a mind of its own. It only takes a few tugs from him coupled with the penetration before you’re yowling out wordlessly again, not sure if you’re cursing or worshiping your elder. 

He grunts and kisses the back of your neck, lips sticky with your purple blood. Every thrust is an overload to your sensitive nerves that summons a ragged moan from your raw throat. 

You’re actually  _thankful_ when he finishes, teeth fastening too hard against your ear and biting down to the cartilage as he ruts into you. Your bruised hips ache from where he’s held you down to use you. But he’s moved past that now. He’s pinned you down against the throne so that you can’t do anything but buck your hips and whimper as he reaches his climax, hips grinding against your ass. 

"Not bad for a wriggler…might not eat you just yet."


	2. Chapter 2

The Grand Highblood has left you alive longer than you expected.

But then again, you didn't expect to survive the first night, let alone days that are beginning to border on weeks. He feeds you better than your lusus ever did. During the day he leaves you alone and to your own devices. You idle around the labyrinth, exploring when curiosity strikes you. 

It's practically just like being back at your own hive.

Except, unlike your lusus, the Highblood shows up every evening.

And every evening you know better than to not heed the crooning summons in the back of your mind. It's hypnotizing. You only want to  _obey_ when you hear him.

You've figured out that the food has to be drugged, because the second his claws graze over your bare skin, you're always reduced to mewling and begging for more. Even when he's nowhere to be found, your nook aches and your bulge is desperate for attention. You know better than to touch. He caught you - once - and the backs of your thighs still sting from just the thought.

But this time he doesn't call you to his respite block like he usually does. Your feet follow his call blindly. There's an invisible chain tugging you into his throne room. Just like the first time.

"There's my good little bitch..." A hand that's easily big enough to snap your limbs and crush your skull caresses your cheek with surprising gentleness. The affection is shallow at best. "You feelin' nice and mother fucking hot for me?"

"Y-Yeah..."

"You been good today, right? Upped the dosage...should be pretty wicked unbearable by now." 

"You  _did_ do somethin' to me!" 

The Highblood just grins at you and gets up from his throne. He advances on you like one of the undead creatures of the night that wrigglers are warned about. You back up two steps for every one of his. The backs of your legs hit the low stone table and you go sprawling onto your back, head cracking hard against the unforgiving slab.

"I think you  _like_ what I did to you." 

Your head is spinning; you can't tell if it's from the drugs or from the split on the back of your head. You don't have much time to think about this before the larger troll has descended upon you, forcing your legs open and pinning you down by your arms. You start to fight against him, but quickly give up. It's no use. He's huge and could kill you with a simple move.

You lay back as his head lowers.

"See? There you go." His lips brush over your neck and you shudder. Today must be the day. He's grown tired of you and you're done for.

His hands move for a quick moment, ripping your shirt from your body and you tense up as you feel his lips against your skin. You whine, trying to lay still, but that hot tongue against your stomach just makes you tense up and try to wriggle away. "P-please!  I d-don't ... I won't taste g-good!"

But the monstrosity isn't listening.

And a hard bite to your side tells you exactly what he's thinking. Your stomach drops and you feel your face pale. Yet, your body moves more into his touch and mouth and your lips let out a wailed moan.

Another bite grazes against your ribs and you twitch in an attempt to arch away from his mouth. His hand holds you firm and he uses his weight to keep you still. He hasn't drawn blood, but the sting in your side is enough to keep you mindful of exactly how much damage he can do.

"You still think I'm gonna up and mother fucking take a chomp on you? Smart wriggler."

"I...I'm more useful if I ain't dead and ate!"

"Didn't say you were gonna end up 'dead and ate'. You should learn to listen a little better."

Your head has gone light and your vision is spinning. Each breath is shallow and coming too quickly and before you know it, you're hyperventilating while he laughs and kisses you with lips coated in your own blood.

"N-Nonono, you said...you  _said_!" You whimper with pain while trying to keep your mouth away from his. Belatedly, you have enough sense to shut your eyes so tight that you're seeing spots. 

"I haven't gone against anything I said..." The Highblood smirks and nibbles on your side of your neck just long enough to make you tense. He moves on from there, leaving purple lip marks on your chest and shoulder and upper arm.

He moves off of you, leaving you trembling, whimpering and on the verge of sobbing. "I said I wouldn't kill you. But shit...are you mother fucking tasty~" His purr makes you shake even more, trying to curl up and cover the wound his mouth left. Touching it makes you even more light headed as a new rush of pain washes over you, making your vision even more blurry.

You roll onto your good side, and the overwhelming feeling of sickness takes you over. Your body jerks as you force yourself onto your hands and knees, expelling the contents of your stomach over the side of the table - nerves and pain finally getting the better of you.

The Grand Highblood just laughs at your weak display.

You want to get up. To try and get away and at least get back to your respite block. To run all the way back home. But you can't even keep supporting yourself on all fours.

"Just motherfucking k- _kill_  me already!" You keep your arm cupped around your injured side as you slump back down onto the table. "Just...kill me and eat me, but get it  _over_  with!"

"Why would I want to kill you so quickly? You wouldn't taste  _nearly_  as good." He moves to loom over you again, that large menacing smile staring you down. "I wonder if your fear makes you taste any better." He pushes you down on to your stomach, holding you there with one hand as his teeth rip in to your lovehandle area, pulling away another chunk and another scream.

Trying to squirm away just makes it all hurt worse. Each movement makes every fiber of your nerves burn with pain, blood dripping with sickening speed onto the stone beneath you. It isn't enough to make you bleed out - or even pass out - but the pain is worse than you had imagined.

But you had also imagined that you would be dead when he finally took that step.

He continues to hold you down, his free hand moving over your lower body to grasp your pants and rip them away from you as well. You give another wail and try to twist away as you feel one of his large fingers pressing into your nook. You'd momentarily forgotten just how hot you had been, but that dirty notion put it back there - at least in the back of your head.

You try to kick him away, though it's quite impossible as you're on your stomach and he's keeping you pinned. His finger works more at you, pushing deeply and curling to feel over your insides. You whine, finally giving up and spreading your legs. He's not going to stop and it's better to let him go on than to risk him taking another bite out of you.

To tell the truth, you're thankful for the distraction.

The strange feeling of pleasure that you get from his wide finger stretching your nook is almost enough to help dull the pain. It's more than enough to get the rest of your body to comply, though. Your bulge has begun to unsheathe and beg your captor for attention. 

"You like a little pain. I knew it." His finger pushes into you up to the knuckle and twists within you while you squirm and gasp against the table. "Makes me wonder what you'll mother fucking do with a little  _more_..."

You're not sure what he means by that, but you have an idea as a second finger presses in to you. It feels almost as wide as his bulge - but not nearly as good. He splits his fingers, each feeling you over in a different direction. It makes you squirm and mewl like it always has.

Your hand leaves your side and grasps at the table, trying to push more against him.

"Didn't take you long to get over being mother fucking eaten, did it?"

His fingers slide from your nook and rub over your whole sex - teasing your bulge before trailing and pressing at your other hole. "Let's see just how hungry  _you_  are."

He grabs your legs, forcing you onto your back again and pulling you to the edge of the table. You don't know when he pulled his own pants down, but they're around his thighs and his large bulge is wiggling, inching for you. You try to squirm away, but it's no use as he grinds up against you and he enters you. It's already thicker than his fingers and he's not being gentle.

Your back arches as he pushes in deep, already moaning heavily as it curls and writhes within you, inching deeper than ever before. It makes your nook ache as it's forced to spread wide, but god, does it feel good.

You whine and chance a glance down; his knot is inching closer to you.

He's been getting you more used to his bulge but the idea of him completely filling you is still terrifying. He's never quite managed to get it all the way in and even just getting close to it is enough to stretch you further than you could imagine. 

You sit up just enough to curl your body and grasp onto his horns again, your purple blood making the bright colors muddy. 

"Gettin' a good grip? You're gonna need it." The Highblood laughs as he bows his head to let you grab on tighter. His bulge squirms and wriggles inside your nook as it fights its way further into you. "Be a good grub, mother fucker...might not take another bite outta you tonight if you behave."

You whine at his threat, but only move down more on him. Better to be good and in one piece than to end up on the dinner menu.

That's when you feel it - the head of his knot. It's spreading you even wider, threatening to split you in half as it's trying to push into your dripping nook.

And you want it in you. You're not sure why - perhaps it's something in the troll's fluids, pheromones - but you want  _him_  and you want your pain is gone.

He can sense your urgency and  _need_  and - for once - he does what you want. He pulls out just enough so that he can push deeper into you, the lips of your nook spreading around his knot. It doesn't hurt. Not compared to the first time he tried to force it into you. Not compared to the sluggishly bleeding teeth marks in your side.

There's a thrill that runs through your spine as you feel the knot forced into you. You both stop moving to take in the moment. A large grin spreads over his face as he stares down at you. "Well done, my little wriggler bitch."

He pushes you back, laying you flat on the table once more. That's when you notice it. His hand moves over your stomach and the bump that's risen there. As he presses on it slightly, you feel him moving inside you and the moan that comes from your throat is quite lude. He grabs one of your hands away from his horns and places it over the risen dome. Under your fingers and palm, you can feel his length curling and moving inside you. You can feel his knot growing and keeping you locked to him as his hips grind against you.

And these feelings make you moan even louder.

His free fingers are dancing with your own slick bulge, causing them to coat in a more translucent purple than what covers his face.

It feels  _good_  and with your nerves overly sensitive from the pain he's put you through, it doesn't take much more to get you on edge. You lift your hips and push against him breathlessly. It isn't  _enough._  You're so close but you're too damn far and you're so hot and ragged and you just want relief.

"More," the word spills from your mouth in a high pitched whine of lust and need. You're demanding things of him. You know better but you can't control yourself.

He laughs. His laugh rattles through your very being. Even with your demands, he's amused. And he obliges. You feel him press deeper into you, causing the bump in your stomach to expand. His large hands grab you, pulling you from the table and carefully turning you over to lay you on your stomach.

He continues to hold you with his right hand, but his left moves over your buttocks. He squeezes and grabs at your cheeks before using his palm to spread them and prods a finger against your empty hole. You feel something wet and cold against your backside. It causes you to shudder.

Despite the short prep and warning, you're not entirely prepared as he pushes one of those large fingers passed the tight ring of your entrance. You let out another cry as you push back on him, urging him deeper. He works the digit before starting up short thrusts of his hips. His hand matches those thrusts, filling both your nook and your ass, giving you more - as you had demanded.

With your mangled side and hip, it's hard for you to do much more than rock back against him, but you do so eagerly. The knot has stretched you tight around him and you can feel every pulse and coil of his bulge as he grinds against you. 

"Can feel ya, wriggler." He purrs and presses his finger the rest of the way into you, practically rubbing against his own bulge.

He twists more inside you, his bulge feeling every inch it can as you're locked to him. These motions distract you from his hand moving from your back. However, the sharp pain to your side tells you exactly where those large fingers have run off to.

You press your forehead into the table as his finger fucks your wound, causing it to bleed freely once again. The pain dulls and you feel his finger moving carefully over your back. You can only guess what he's writing with his macabre purple ink and if you counted right, it's only three letters long.

You give another whimper as his hand moves over your bleeding side and wince away from his hand as he wipes your blood as much over your face as possible.

"Your blood is the same as mine. This way...you remember who you mother fucking belong to."

He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as his pace begins up again - slamming and grinding mirthlessly against your raw privates.

And all you can do is moan. Louder than you ever had. Your fingers scratch against the table and you can feel your mouth dripping with blood and saliva, enjoying the pounding the monster of a troll is giving you. The pounding that sends your head swimming as you scream when the hot sensation fills your nook.

You scream until your body goes limp and your vision goes black, your mind on only one thought.

The action is dirty and wasteful - but then again, why would the Grand Highblood want to actually share genetic material with nothing but a sacrifice?


End file.
